Karma, as it were, as it was, as it is… has a sense of humor, or is it more on the tree of irony? probably the latter, regardless of my navel karma gazing as fate would have it, I posted a little thought, quip, thing about roadkill in my last post, so the boomerang swung back around these ways today and lo and on hold one of my road technicians struck a deer, not some rare occurrence in these parts mind you, but the timing seemed like a nod, fortunately my tech was unscathed, the deer? not so much, and as it turns out it was a fawn, yes a baby deer… I hate to admit it, maybe not, but things pop into my head and I share them, much to the horror of my administrative assistant Irene (you would think she would be used to it by now)… I had to…I just had to… I blurted out (with much pent up glee like a little kid)… “he put the BAM in Bambi!”
I giggled like a little girl, I just couldn’t help myself, I was officially giddy beyond belief, with no guilt, would me being sorry or contrite restore life? no… c’mon now. call it gallows humor or what ever the matter, sometimes you have to laugh at circumstance or conveyance of typical human behavior, we all pretend as if our butterfly wings fluttering matter, admit it, I do, we expect we have some push on the universe, in a sense we do because we exist, but in the general scheme of things making fun of the macabre or anything… is nothing and amounts to nothing, so smile, laugh, not at a fellow other’s expense but sometimes at the expense that has been paid and laid by those before us, for they can not laugh for us…
perfection if you are a word nerd, has there ever been a better term ? it can not be confused with something else, at least not to me, the perfection of it just hit me like (I want to say a ton of bricks but man that is used….), it hit me like a halibut (that sounds quirky enough so I will go with that)
I was pondering what my limits are when it comes to happiness, is there a well, a reservoir, a certain limit to my good nature and how exactly does that work? I thought about how some days my fuse is quite short but others not so much, do we possess…
a quotient of happiness ?
I quite imagine it is like a little jar, with some iridescent red fluid, stocked with a various amount any given day (maybe I grew up playing too many RPGs, fair point), regardless, this is what I visualize in my mind, what a grand thing it would be to know how much happiness I had in stock for the day before I stumbled out on the world, I might mete it out better or more copiously (depending – supply/demand happiness economics 101), this visceral representation in the mind might lend to a more balanced me, after all, especially on Mondays, I certainly could use an IV of good tidings to start the week, but how might I fill this heart container once drained? what if I set out to dream of happiness as I lay down at night? and how might I accomplish such a thing? counting smiling sheep perhaps? having Ed McMahon confirm that I may have already won 10 million dollars? a tropical island? a date with Drew Barrymore? maybe none of those things, maybe the key is just thinking about the subject at all, power through consideration, a mental reminder to recharge the resource for the good of all, I think I will give it a whirl, what’s the harm, although a smile to the next passing car does not seem to return the same… I’ll smile anyway.
apparently I am not the only one to ponder this particular conundrum, as a simple web search brought up the following…
if I only knew what I was getting into! seven steps… and here I thought I was all clever mcDavey with my little flask analogy like Legend of Zelda… hmmph. oh well, whatever the case may be, be happy.
work was getting to me, my usual brick and mortar exterior was showing cracks, is this Monday? which is even a worse thought when it is not, but then you think “well, one day closer to the end of the week then”, which holds your hope over for about four seconds before returning to the pounding pace, the check in stamping work clock ticking just above your right shoulder, ever closer, sure, you flick your head around and it retreats to where it actually is, but that sneaky bastard just keeps ticking and mocking you just the same, the phone, I swear they work in tandem, tick – ringinging – tick – ringinging – tick – ringinging, is anyone going to answer that goddamn phone? and half the time it is one of my technicians calling. I believe it was jesus who said that you if you teach a man to fish he will eat all year, or something to that effect, well, I have taught some of my technicians to fish… but they wind up casting their lines in parking lot puddles, and I assure you the catch there is certainly not edible, nor is their ineptitude understandable or put-able on a day like today, in between thunderclaps of the boss’ pages, I decide to dash for the door, even a dreary wannabe rain day beats the inside of this joint today, I think of braveheart as my inner soul screams “F R E E D O M!!!!!”
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Ah, lovely suburbanHackensack New Jersey, a collection of non de-script homes nestled ‘tween aged industrial buildings of little or none architectural flair (a true monument to utilitarianism boredom), the gleaming, bustling highway route 80 off to my left (scene of the morning crawl), the effervescent Hackensack river one block behind me (nothing can live in the water it is so utterly polluted), the once black mulch adorning the sides of the walkway with lovely petals of newport and marlboro scattered about, ah, this is my refuge from that cubicle of torture (even though it is a not a cubicle, I might actually prefer the semi-privacy granted by such walls), I need to catch my breath and shake off the ox plow of the day, what better way than to amuse myself with the viciousness of local traffic, I swear I saw fangs bared (I could be mistaken), but the strict adherence to subtle traffic common law does bring out the beast in people, take more than two seconds at a light? you will get a rather subtle reminder from the courteous traveler behind you, sometimes even shouting encouraging words such as “move it moron” or “what the f’ is wrong with you, you stupid piece of s*!”, who on god’s good green earth would dare question the civility and harmony of humanity in times such as these? I was also unaware that the stretch of local road outside was an honorary speed race track (I think it is christened Chuck Yeager memorial or something), and off they go in all sorts of various vehicles gunning it down the street to some unknown checkered flag, all to my amusement, there are lights every 100 or so feet as you approach downtown, and the courthouse as well, oh well, these brave pioneers know better than I, I am not sure if I witness the death of courtesy or both sides being, well, complete friggin jerkoffs, my neighbor across the way, this sort of blair witch house thing, that has been through (barely) many floods, and certainly even more occupants, not sure which has done more damage but both wind up leaving various furniture and objects at the curb in their wake, but back to the traffic at hand, my neighbor whom I do not know (we office types do not mix with the ‘residentials’, it is forbidden or to say it with more panache – ‘verboten’), he decides to just back right up into the street with nary a pause, well, Mr J Lexus was having none of that I tell you, I mean I get it, I truly do, being the first to sit at a red light is quite the high honor, but it was hard for me to decide who was more in the wrong here, technically ‘we-be-jammin-can’t-see-through-the-night-tinted-glass-Lexus-man’ had the right of way, he clearly demonstrated this with a light tap on his horn that lasted nearly ten seconds, I could not hear the verbal gems he hurled at my poor lonely neighbor, who incidentally took this verbal assault to simply back up right into the road and force a sudden stop of a different car (one of lower standard in the caste system than Sir Lexus the Great), I can’t tell you how much this whole scene amused me, and I think I got a couple of death stares in my general direction, but I felt safe with the door to my office within grasping distance of my big white rear in case a hasty retreat was needed, so I filled my lungs with the filthy air of industry, racing cars for no reason, the highway fumes floating down like smog mana from heaven, and I was revived…can I get an Amen (cough * cough *)… but I must admit I felt refreshed, revitalized, ready to put on my invisible armor and march back in there to the battle that can not be won, but I struggle on, with renewed vigor, renewed belief in the goodness of man!
Epilogue: As fate laughs, down at me, as fate would have it, this very night, driving home (as I tend to do), I get off my normal exit on the GSP, no biggie, I make the usual turn onto Magnolia (glad there is no train arriving @ Metropark), and WHAM… a livery vehicle in front of me (that’s a fancy taxi to the uninitiated), said livery vehicle proceeds to race ahead at 10-15 mph in front of me… honestly at this point I could have turned into a traffic madman like I expounded about in this post, but alas, I just laughed at the utter irony of it all (being I wrote all this today), and let the jackass behind me do all the road rage-y stuff for me, you know, the swerving, the lights, the horn, this just amused me more and more, local street, double yellow line (no passing), so I just bided my time and livery guy made a left, “good luck” I thought to those behind, poor bastards. (and heck, it doesn’t hurt to have some good tunes to take the old edge off, I must admit).
silly but performed so well, can you recognize all the songs and riffs (so many classics in there) ? ? ? ? and with that I sign off my friends, as always, all eyes, loose eyeballs, looks, half looks, stink eyes, and other none such… are… well appreciated. tell your friends, ego has a blog, and this is it…
“my sin is stone bearing upon my bones I wish this was a story I read and not the one I wrote”
notes… sometimes I dwell, I wish I was a dumb moron, a dump truck who could just tilt back and leave a pile of dirt behind, but I am just not wired that way, I wish I was an electrician so I might fix myself… but what else would I screw up in the process?
music? even on this topic… I am going light and fun here…
point one, I was enjoying a rather common evening picking up a few items at the local supermarket (Wegmans, and I love the damn place), so being that I had just over 7 items and less than 15 I was relegated to the 15 or less lane (seems obvious), I generally pride myself in keeping my cool and apparently I was about to be put through the gauntlet of said pride, as luck, fate, or damn circumstance would have it, the gentleman (and I am stretching the word here) in front of me had way more than the appointed 15 items, that in itself is enough for a force-able slap across the face, but I showed restraint, point two, the cashier did not admonish this monster of the shop-way in any way shape or form, I train cashiers, or well used to at work and I always made that a point of emphasis, are these people actively f’ng with me ? (I think to myself, where is kutcher? but that show is long gone, bad reference on my part) So I relegate to swallow my growing, throbbing rage and think of better days, “hey, what is the outcome here if I confront this unspeakable evil?”, so I regress to pretend interest in the candies and periodicals lining the grocery runway toward the cashier, all the while trying to hide my side stink eye at the thorn sticking so sorely in my side, THREE! the cashier moved at a glacial pace, and also did not know her produce codes, inside baseball here THE CODES ARE ON THE STICKERS!!!! ARRRGHGGGHGGH!!! I am surprised I am not vibrating out of my shoes at this point, but I tap myself on the shoulder (figuratively now, otherwise that would be weird), and I pause and decide against any action as any outcome will not be just worth it, I just need to hold on and let the storm pass, FOUR… finally, I mean finally, the order is scanned and bagged, but is my ordeal done? oh nelly no no, not a chance in this hell I was getting out that easy, not only did gentleman “x” bring a party to the one person line he decides to finalize the transaction in slow order, FIVE… shopper loyalty card, does he have a swipe-able one ? nah… are you kidding? he pulls out a key ring that would make Tolkien drool, with a key fob for every store to perhaps inhabit a 100 mile radius of this place for the past three decades (or more), so one by one like the dewey decimal hell of my youth he goes through them, would it be in the first 20 flop ? of course not… I think I am out of my body at this point looking down upon the scene as my soul wants to depart this world, finally… and I mean finally finally (as my eyes seer) he finds the right card, ok… we’re good, oh wait, oh shit, this goddamn m-f’r has not even paid yet… if he pays in change, that’s f’n it, I have rights dammit, people have been killed for lesser transgressions, SIX…SIX…SIX…pick up sticks to beat this person with… just put your damn credit/debit card in the slot already, you could have done this AT ANY TIME during the transaction!! AHHHHH!!!! (admittedly it is worse for me because as this is my industry I know how the payment system works… you can slide/dip your card whenever people!!! do it early and often!)… I am almost broken at this point, having held off this raging beast inside so long the cage that is my brain is exhausted and… damn logic, there is no good outcome from confrontation here, I just have to eat it, and not enjoy it (this gentleman has no idea how close I was to losing it). Was this 5 minutes or an hour? I don’t know if I could testify to the facts after that. So please… when you are in line, do what you can to speed things along, the life you save… may be your own. (and the chipotle corn cakes turned out to be worth the wait, I hate to admit)
oh! magical jelly bean I strike out to find your whereabouts to track you down legend laces whispers that you are all flavors rolled into one truly a concocted dream of Wonka want might I find you… in a guessing jar? will you look familiar or are you a solitary star snuck among the common pebbles for common tongues oh! magical jelly bean my quest for you… has just begun !
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notes… there are times when I have no idea what is coming into the view-master of my mind, so I pull forward on the one armed bandit mech anyway and see what it brings, I labeled this canto 1 for a number of reasons, but primarily because I might come back to play in this sandlot, I have other ideas of where I might root around and search for this magical bean…
music, going geek rogue here again… one of the most overlooked video games (to me), complete package, skill, game mechanics, music, graphics (for the time)…
Latin Irony… at my local Wegman’s (the most awesome-ist supermarket) I peered across the parking lot, and instead of just noting the irony to myself, I stopped, to share it with you, I can only imagine the thoughts of those in their cars as to why this nutbar was standing in the middle of the parking lot (literally) taking photos of such a banal suburban scene in less than 30 degrees, but only if they read my blog (like every good person should) they might understand…
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music (to perhaps meditate to, whatever meditation means to you) ? I have been into this the past few days, I admittedly have an ambient bone to pick and love the soothing electronica it provides (I must admit I missed this band in the past, my bad but damn they, the duo are great)…
and as always, thanks for the look, the eyes, the time, all comments are appreciated, as well as local restaurant suggestions (I can’t complain though, really, how many towns have genuine thai, vietnamese, north and south indian, sri lankan and all the usual jersey fare – hello, awesome pizza?!?! and bagels), but I am always open to suggestions !
I often wonder would I like to live in more primitive times, to be an ancient as it were, the television would be the sky, the logs my corridors, there is an allure to that simple life but perhaps only if you hadn’t dipped that big toe into the now know, but I try to imagine what the sun and moon would mean not knowing the spin cycle that is the reason for their being in motion, sure, the celestial bodies are still a wonder, but imagine seeing these spheres magically appear and change over the course of a year, has the moon lost some luster ? has the sun lost some bright ? doubtful… just tonight looking up at a cloudy sky, just one note color, but there, a fuzzy diffused bulb just hanging, close one eye and reach up with a hand circle spyglass, and you could almost touch the thing, even knowing in reality only a handful of humans have actually touched moona firma, and that was 50 years ago, half a lifetime these days, perhaps only a third of a lifetime just down the road, so is our wonder gone or just refocused ? does technology and knowledge disconnect us? I might imagine what it was like to be the guy (or gal) that figured out how to create fire on demand, the veritable steve jobs of their day, pimping Ifire, bigger Ifire, Ifire portable, but I imagine people got tired of Ifire when the only difference in Ifire 10 was charcoal briquettes, so I suppose, in all this prose, what I might be trying to say, it is all relative, all generations thought they knew the most, think of those that found all the coasts and what a revelation that was in those times, is the feeling the same now when we find a new exoplanet? or is it blase-faire ? I often find myself sky gazing these days during the day and star gazing the night when the sun is away. and so I muse…
tonight I find myself standing among a forest of naked believers limbs raised in praise upwards to the heavens vibrating in the breeze so I may look there and agree, with no roots holding may I ascend up into the stars to continue this journey into the celestial bounty
Music ? how about some space ambient… I listen to this stuff all the time…
Intro: Some of the names/details may have been changed to protect the reputation of the participants but the core facts remain in this tale of utter woe and suffering (relative to the situation, which I found myself within just the other day).
So in my workly travels I might stop at a local watering hole (read coffee shop), I quite like strong and bitter coffee, so I was off on my way to Hempstead NY and stopped at the local, well, let’s call it “Starbox” coffee establishment (do not want to infringe on any copyrights after all, savy?), nothing seemed amiss in the LED light-washed down faces sucked into local vortexes, or at least this is not a miss if not the main in this day and age (maybe I am showing my age?), but more to the meat of the matter, I approached the counter, which can always be a puzzle in itself, which side do I go to? is this the line? is this person nose dove into their phone in line? what came first the coffee bean or the egg? I managed to find my way to the ordering type area, almost unaware of the signs (oh the signs) up on the registers, quite hand written (is that still legal), announcing that (warning: if you have small children please have them leave the room) the fancy coffee maker thing-a-majobber (or barista enabler mechanism) is quite broken, how could I not notice this semi natural disaster in the wake, this tsunami of disappointment brewing on the horizon, as I blythely ordered a large dark roast, I only noticed these harrowing words of torment as I awaited my hot cup of goodness (read: caffeine delivery system), the situation was brought more to a dancing bear under my nose by the next in line (poor soul), as he tried (in earnest and with great seriousness) to order some sort of latte, or frappucino, or hell-if-I-know, but whatever it was, it sounded impressive, but only to be shot down like a burning angel cinder, like Icarus himself so close to touching the fiery ball that rules this corner of the great milky way (boy I am glad our galaxy is not named whatchamacallit), I stood amazed, for a moment, at the spectacle, and how deeply felt the blow of the non latte was felled upon my fellow coffee house traveler, and on cried the fraught lad, lacrimonious roar throughout mocha frappa-land, and then as if guided birdboxly into yet another pit of iron rusty spikes he asks “does that (pointing to some perfection looking sandwich thing) come with vegan bacon?”, almost with a quiver in the delivery knowing his hopes are crumbling like so much a mountain in end times exploding, and then with another cold rebuke the answer comes handed down with ultimate thunder “no” (it seemed to echo forever and more)…
immediately the air seemed to escape from the room, surely the temperature dropped precipitously, all light now eschewed by utter doom, what is that poor lad to do in such withering circumstance? (not to mention those gathered in the twitter unison circle)
I felt the recoil, the urge, the itch, first corners turning, “I can not laugh” I think for a moment… but surely my growing, glowing cheshire grin revealing my burgeoning delight, amid the wash of this assumed morass of perceived category 5 dilemma, so with that, before I spilled guffaw right there all over the floor, I routed my route to the escape door, large dark roast in hand content with a spritz of stevia, a dash of cinnamon and the subtle kiss of non fat milk (from a cow of consent), grinning in all the splendor of wading through the casualties of this coffee house disaster. I will not look back and become a pillar.
(exit, stage door, enter car, back onto the belt parkway for work, take a sip, enjoy)
Thoughts, comments and all else is always appreciated, I bow to you O reader with thanks and commons.
Shades of My Garden 